Son and Heir
by laoisbabe
Summary: Harper Dearing has just been caught and Gibbs reflects on the toll of the hunt. Then he receives a call from Parker, Dr. Ryan's son, that worries him. It leads him somewhere he couldn't have imagined.
1. Chapter 1

A/N - This story takes place a few weeks after the Navy Yard bombing. I decided to take a nugget of information from a conversation that Gibbs and Dr. Ryan had and run with it. A little different but hope you give it a chance.

Disclaimer - These characters are the property of CBS and I only borrow them every now and again.

**Son and Heir**

**Chapter 1**

Gibbs closed his front door behind him, removed his side arm and badge before sinking tiredly into his sofa. It had been one of the most difficult periods of his NCIS career, but finally, after nearly three weeks of a manhunt, they had Harper Dearing in custody. Unconsciously, Gibbs ran his hand over the raised scar in his scalp, courtesy of Dearing's car bomb attack at NCIS headquarters. He thought of the lives that had been lost that day, too many innocent lives.

He closed his eyes and recalled the searing heat when the violent blast hit him as Director Vance's SUV disintegrated. The detonation blew in the windows of Abby's lab just as he arrived to warn her of the danger. The flying glass and hot metal were lethal, but he and Abby had escaped relatively unscathed. He had suffered a scalp laceration and shrapnel wound to his arm. Abby took a knock to her head when he pushed her to the ground, but other than that she was unharmed. They had been lucky.

He would never forget the terror he felt in the aftermath of the detonation as he tried to locate the rest of his team. He had led Abby out of the building to safety before returning to the damaged block to find his team. He checked several bodies and injured personnel on the lower floors of the front of the building and was relieved that none of the victims were members of his team. He eventually found McGee lying unconscious in the bullpen of their office with a severe injury to his neck. He had been struck by flying glass and Gibbs fought hard to stop the young agent from bleeding to death, clamping his neck with his bare hands. Thankfully, the building was quickly swarming with paramedics and rescue personnel and they quickly took over and looked after his young charge.

Gibbs had then resumed his search for Tony and Ziva. As he was frantically searching through rubble, his cell phone rang. It was Tony. He couldn't believe it. He sounded fine, much to Gibbs' relief. He told Gibbs that they were trapped in the elevator and that they were okay. Gibbs directed the fire crew to the elevator and oversaw their rescue. Uncharacteristically, he hugged each of them tightly as they emerged from the elevator shaft. To ease the awkwardness of the moment, Tony had joked about some movie elevator scene that completely went over Gibbs' head.

Gibbs kicked off his shoes and put his feet on the coffee table and recalled the moment his cell phone rang for a second time following the explosion. He was heading out of the building with Ziva and Tony, going to get his wounds checked out, on Ziva's insistence. He was already shaken and totally unprepared for the earth-shattering news he received from Jimmy Palmer. Dr. Mallard had been found collapsed on the beach close to his hotel in Florida. Jimmy explained how he had found him and had administered CPR before the ambulance arrived. Ducky was critically ill, having suffered what Palmer suspected to be, a heart attack. That was all Gibbs heard. It was the straw that broke the camel's back because the shock of that news combined with the stress of the last few hours, exhaustion and blood loss caught up with him and he suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. He became dizzy, reached for a nearby wall and later learned that he had passed out.

He woke in a moving ambulance, accompanied by a very concerned Ziva and Tony. Abby had travelled to the hospital earlier with McGee. Gibbs then told Tony and Ziva about the phone call from Palmer. They were all as shocked as he to hear the news. Tony called Palmer back to try and get more information while Gibbs was being treated in the ER. Tony was able to find out that Ducky was undergoing emergency by-pass surgery, but could hear how worried Palmer was. He wasn't sure what outcome to expect. He sensed things were bad.

Gibbs only spent a couple of hours at the hospital that day before being discharged. He was anxious about McGee, but relieved to find that he was out of surgery and recovering. The Director had also been admitted to the hospital, having fractured his collar bone when he was blown off his feet by the blast. Gibbs, Tony and Ziva were quickly back to work after that and, with the assistance of the FBI, were soon on the trail of Dearing.

Gibbs kept in constant touch with Palmer throughout the manhunt. His heart told him to go to Florida and be with his friend, but his head told him to find this killer. He listened to his head. They worked tirelessly in their efforts to find Dearing. They were down a man and really missed McGee's technical expertise, but they muddled through and, with the help of FBI's techs and labs, they eventually got a lead. It ended up being his own arrogance that was Dearing's undoing.

He couldn't help but re-establish contact with Gibbs in the days following the explosion to rub his nose in it. They weren't prepared for that the first time he called, but the second and third times, they were waiting. They had been able to narrow down his location and it seemed that he was resting on his laurels, his job done. Maybe he wanted to be caught, Gibbs considered, or maybe he just didn't think he could be touched, but they got him. The operation was well planned and well executed and Dearing was taken alive. Luckily for Dearing, Gibbs wasn't first through the door of the farmhouse he was renting. Members of the FBI Special Task Force took point and had him secured before the NCIS agents entered. Gibbs had no doubt that he would have put a bullet in the man had he been first to find him. But what was done was done. The dead had been buried, the wounded were recovering and the culprit was now facing life without parole.

Gibbs rested his head back on the pillow behind him and considered the personal cost of their tryst with Harper Dearing. The cost to NCIS was immeasurable. Seven people had died that day, some he knew, others he didn't, people he had evacuated out of the building, but hadn't made it clear of the danger zone. In fact, those who had remained inside the building had fared far better than those outside. He felt a twinge of guilt when it crossed his mind.

Personally, he was lucky not to have lost his team. He wasn't sure how he would have coped had he lost any of them. McGee had been lucky. Had the glass hit him half an inch to the right, it would have severed his jugular vein and he would have bled to death before anyone had found him.

The good news was that at least Ducky was recovering. Jimmy had postponed his wedding plans and stayed with him in Florida until he was released from hospital. He and Brianna then drove him back to DC and had been looking after him for the last week. Gibbs checked his watch. He should call to see Ducky, but it was late so decided to wait until morning.

His mind wandered to Dr. Ryan. Their relationship had been another casualty of Dearing's reign of terror. He had gotten to her and Gibbs was surprised how easily she had let him. Dearing had ensured that her ex-husband had been released from prison and this panicked her. Within a day, she packed up her life and she and her son Parker prepared to make a new life away from Washington. Gibbs hardly had time to miss her while the investigation was on-going, but now that it was all over, he realised just how much he did miss her.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he needed to eat something. He stood and walked to the refrigerator, removing his jacket and throwing it on the back of a chair as he went. He opened the fridge door and stared at its sparse contents. There were a couple of steaks, but he was too tired to start cooking. He grabbed some cheese and cold cuts and made himself a sandwich. He took a cold beer and sat back on the sofa. He ate greedily and washed his meal down with his beer. He considered getting up and having a shower to freshen up, but he hadn't the energy. He grabbed a blanket and pillow and crashed out on the sofa. The constant stress of the last few weeks had taken its toll and it wasn't long before he was sound asleep.

He was jolted from his slumber by his cell phone ringing. He reached for it and held it away from his face so he could see the caller ID. It was an unknown number. He considered ignoring it but something drove him to answer it.

"Yeah, Gibbs," he grumbled.

"Agent Gibbs? It's Parker Ryan," the whispered voice started.

"Parker?" Gibbs said, sitting up in surprise.

"My mom needs your help, Agent Gibbs. Can you come?" Parker asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

"Put your mom on," Gibbs said, checking his watch. It was after midnight.

"I can't. He's in the house. She doesn't know I called you," Parker explained.

"Who's in the house, Parker?" Gibbs asked, sensing the boy's fear.

"My father," Parker replied, sounding a little ashamed.

Gibbs stomach flipped nervously. He didn't know the full history of Dr. Ryan's brief marriage, but could tell from her reaction the last day in her office, how scared she was of him.

"Okay. Parker, I need you to tell me where you are," Gibbs said calmly.

"We're in Richmond," he replied, before giving him the exact address.

"Okay, I can be there in a little over an hour. Is everything okay? Has he done anything to you or your mom?" Gibbs enquired as he reached for his shoes.

"No, no, they're talking. Mom sent me to my room, but I could tell she was scared," Parker explained.

"It's going to be okay. If he scares you, call 911 right away, okay?" Gibbs advised.

"I will. Thanks, Agent Gibbs," Parker said before hanging up.

Gibbs felt a surge of adrenaline. His gut told him to get to Richmond as soon as possible. The boy sounded scared, but was trying to hide it. He grabbed his jacket and car keys and slammed the door behind him. He drove with haste onto the I-95. Gibbs was renowned for his driving skills and wasn't holding back as he tore down the freeway. It had started to drizzle as he drove. As he weaved through slower traffic, his tires screeched as they struggled to grip the slick road surface.

He wasn't sure what to expect when he got there. Maybe the kid had got it wrong. Maybe they were just talking. Or maybe this guy, Dunne, was going to harm them. He decided to approach it as though they were in danger and he prepared himself. His heart pounded in anticipation of trouble. The thought of Ryan in jeopardy worried him. He realised just how much he cared for her. With all that had been going on with Dearing and Ducky, he barely had time to dwell on the end of their affair. But as he drove, he had time to think. There were times when she drove him mad, with all that brain-gamer stuff, as he called it. She had a way of playing with him, teasing him that at first made him feel insecure and vulnerable. But it was her fearlessness that he loved the most. That was why he was so surprised when she told him she was leaving. He was stunned. He had planned to go after her, to help her, but then Dearing bombed the Navy Yard and he got distracted.

A blaring car horn snapped him from his musings. He was harassing other road users as he sped down the interstate. Finally, he saw the signs for Richmond and steered into the correct lane to take the off ramp. Parker had given him directions to the house. They were staying in the house of a former colleague of Dr. Ryan's, who was currently in Europe for six months. It was intended to be a temporary arrangement until she was able to find somewhere more permanent for the two of them.

He soon found the street and slowed down so that he could read the house numbers. He found 2774 and stopped the car at the curb. He sat and looked towards the house. Dr. Ryan's car was in the driveway. There was no other car around. He got out of the car and walked up the driveway. The lights were on in the front room. He approached the front door and rang the bell. There was no answer. He tried the handle and it opened. Alarm bells rang immediately. She would never leave the door unlocked. Something was wrong. He removed his sidearm from its holster and slowly pushed the door open.

Cautiously, he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the interior. There was a stairs to his right, a living room to his left. He turned three hundred and sixty degrees before walking through into the living area. It was there he found her. She was unconscious, lying face down on the wooden floor. She wasn't moving. Gibbs rushed to her side.

"Doc?" he called as he knelt by her side, placing his hand tenderly on her back.

He could feel her chest rise. At least she was breathing. He took out his cell phone and dialled 911, giving the operator his location and the nature of the emergency. Then he returned his attention to Dr. Ryan. He could tell by the blood and bruising on her face that she had taken a beating. His blood boiled to think that someone could do that to her.

"You're going to be okay, Doc. Help is on the way," he said, trying to console her.

He reached up to the sofa and removed a blanket that hung on the back. He placed it over her. Then he remembered Parker. He stood up and ran to the bottom of the stairs.

"Parker!" he yelled, hoping the boy would reply.

There was no answer. Reluctantly, he left the doctor on the living room floor and went upstairs to check on her son. He searched each of the three bedrooms and the bathroom. There was no sign of him. He decided to try to call back the cell phone number that the boy had earlier called him on. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. It continually went to voice mail.

His heart sank. Dr. Ryan's son was gone.

To be continued...

**_A/N - let me know if this is going to be worth continuing. I know that a lot of you don't like Dr. Ryan but she doesn't feature a whole lot throughout._**


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N - thanks to all of you who reviewed and encouraged this story. I hope you enjoy where we go with this. Will be a little different but I hope enjoyable. _**

Chapter 2

Gibbs remained at Dr. Ryan's side while he waited for the ambulance to arrive. She regained consciousness before their arrival, but was in a very distressed and confused state. She tried to fight him off and he had to hold her hands to prevent her hitting him. He did his best to calm and reassure her until the paramedics got there. They asked him to move aside and quickly took over. After a short while, they loaded her into the ambulance and started towards the hospital. Gibbs followed close behind in his car.

When they arrived at the Emergency Room, Dr. Ryan was taken into a trauma room and Gibbs was asked to wait outside. He didn't take kindly to being refused entry, but was mindful not to make a scene. He was more concerned about Dr. Ryan than anything else. He thought about calling his team, but knew they would be enjoying their first night off in weeks so decided to wait, at least until he had spoken to the Doc.

After what felt like an age, a nurse came out and spoke to him.

"Excuse me, Sir, are you Gibbs?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's me," Gibbs replied, getting to his feet immediately.

"She's asking for you," she said, smiling sweetly at him.

Gibbs followed her into the trauma room. Dr. Ryan was lying, in a slightly raised position, on a treatment table. A gash on her eyebrow had recently been stitched and the blood cleaned from her face. Her upper lip and cheek were swollen and her left eye almost closed shut. The sight of her injuries made Gibbs' blood boil. He approached her tentatively, almost awkwardly. She looked at him with frightened, pleading eyes.

"Is Parker with you?" she asked breathlessly, looking back behind him in the direction of the trauma room door.

Gibbs shook his head.

"Where is he?" she said, reaching for his arm and squeezing tightly. "He's got him, hasn't he?"

Gibbs took hold of her hand.

"Who, Doc? Who did this to you?" he asked, trying to get her to make some sense.

"Liam. He took him. Oh, God!"

She began to cry.

"Liam? Your ex?" Gibbs asked, trying to glean as much information as he could from her.

She nodded, unable to speak through her sobbing. It broke Gibbs' heart to see her like this. She was normally one of the strongest, most coherent and confident of women and he loved that about her. Right now she was a mere shell of her usual self.

"I'll find him, Doc. I promise, I'll find him," Gibbs assured her.

He continued to hold her hand and to be a comfort to her until eventually the nurse interrupted them and said that she had to take Dr. Ryan for a head CT. While she was gone, Gibbs contacted the local PD by phone and shared what little information he had about Parker and his father. They quickly issued an Amber Alert for the boy. He gave them the name of Liam Dunne, Ryan's ex, and explained that he was the boy's father, but that he had no custodial rights and was wanted for assault. That was all he really knew of the situation as it stood. Dr. Ryan had never divulged much about her past or about the boy's father to him while they dated. She had mentioned him briefly before and was undoubtedly scared of him before she disappeared out of his life just prior to the Navy Yard bombing.

He decided that he was going to need some help with this after all. He called McGee and asked him to go in to the office. McGee, as usual, was happy to oblige. He wanted McGee to find out everything he could about this Liam Dunne.

After the CT scan, Dr. Ryan was taken to a room where she would spend the night. She was visibly exhausted, but Gibbs needed her to tell him anything she could about her ex-husband. She sat up sorely in the bed, wincing from the pain from her cracked ribs. She battled her emotions and did her best to relay their history to him.

"I first met him while lecturing in Europe," she told Gibbs. "He was attending Queen's University in Belfast as a mature student. He was so charming. I think I fell for him there and then. He had this glint in his eyes and a soft Irish brogue and he made me laugh. I extended my stay in Ireland and we got serious. It broke my heart when I eventually had to leave him to come back to the States. The next summer he called me out of the blue. He was in New York and wanted to meet up. We met and it was like we had never been apart," she told him, smiling at the memory.

Gibbs didn't smile.

"He had a work visa and a good job. We got married the following spring. When I found out I was expecting Parker, he was so happy. Everything was perfect, at least for a while. Then he started going on business trips, sometimes back to Ireland, never really telling me much about the trips. When I eventually called him on it, he….it was the first time he hit me," she explained. "Of course he was very sorry, begged me to forgive him and like a fool, I did. The trips became more frequent and for longer periods of time; most of the time I had no clue where he was. Then, after a couple of years, I was approached by an FBI agent. He told me that he suspected Liam of being a hit man for a terrorist organisation. I laughed at him at first, but he painted a pretty convincing picture. However, they couldn't prove it. What they could prove was that he had connections with a terrorist organisation and was suspected of smuggling weapons and money into and out of the country. I co-operated and he was arrested and jailed. He was supposed to serve a minimum of twenty years, but Dearing got him out," she said, starting to cry again. "And now he has my Parker."

"Do you think he'll hurt Parker?" Gibbs asked.

"No, I wouldn't think so," she said, shaking her head. "But he as contacts that might help him take Parker out of the country. If he does that, I might never see him again."

"Not if I can help it," Gibbs replied. "I'll get McGee to check the airports. We'll get him."

"Just….be careful, Gibbs," she warned, reaching out to grab his wrist and looking intensely into his eyes. "He hurts people. Don't underestimate him."

Gibbs gave a reassuring nod and kissed her on the forehead.

"You rest," he said before leaving.

He made another call to McGee and then decided to return to Ryan's house. From there he took a picture of Parker from a frame in her bedroom, captured it on his phone and sent it to McGee. He then packed some personal items to take to Ryan in the hospital.

Meanwhile, McGee ran a facial recognition programme using pictures of Dunne and Parker and recent security footage from airports in the Washington and Richmond area. By now Parker had been missing almost four hours. He sat patiently in the office, alone, waiting for a hit. Eventually it came. He called Gibbs immediately.

"Boss, I got a hit," he said proudly. "Going through Dulles International. They got on a flight to Shannon, Ireland. Boss, it took off fifteen minutes ago."

"Damn it!" Gibbs said, his frustration bubbling over.

"I checked the passenger list. Dunne travelled using the name Steven O'Meara. He had a passport for Parker too with the name of Jake O'Meara. The flight is scheduled to land in seven hours, Boss."

"Get me on a flight to Ireland," Gibbs ordered.

"Eh….," McGee said, typing furiously on his keyboard. "Next flight to Shannon isn't for another five hours, Boss."

"Try a military hop," Gibbs said.

"To Ireland?" McGee asked, surprised Gibbs would even suggest it. "We don't have any bases in Ireland, Boss."

"I know that, McGee, but Shannon is a refuelling stop for Clippers deploying troops to the Middle-East," Gibbs informed him.

"Oh," McGee replied. "I'll check, Boss."

Gibbs listened impatiently to McGee's keystrokes. Then McGee came back to him.

"Sorry, Boss. No flight this week. I'll book you on the next flight from Dulles. Do you need the rest of the team on that flight, Boss?" McGee asked.

"No, this isn't an NCIS case, McGee. This is…personal," Gibbs replied, silently appreciating his young agent's concern.

With that Gibbs hung up. He went back to the hospital and explained to Dr. Ryan what was going on. She was distraught knowing that Liam had already taken her son out of the country and begged Gibbs to get him back. She desperately wanted to go with him and tried to get out of the bed, but Gibbs convinced her that he would be better off on his own. She needed to get well for when Parker came home.

Gibbs drove back to Washington. He had enough time to throw some basics into a sports bag for the trip. As he prepared to go, he called Director Vance. Vance listened intently as Gibbs explained the drama of the last few hours. He understood Gibbs' compulsion to help Dr. Ryan, but was quick to remind him that he had no jurisdiction in Ireland. Also, he reminded him that as he was travelling as a private citizen, he could not carry a weapon on the flight. Vance promised to contact the Irish authorities and see what kind of assistance they could offer once his agent got there.

Gibbs caught the Delta flight from Dulles and was soon winging his way over the Atlantic. He slept for most of the flight and felt refreshed when he landed. Gibbs exited passport control and customs into the arrivals lounge. He was surprised to see a bored looking man holding a sign with his name on it. He approached the man.

"Hey," he said, catching the man's attention. "I'm Gibbs."

"Ah, Agent Gibbs. Jack Kavanagh, Inspector Jack Kavanagh. The Superintendent asked me to meet you and take you to Area Headquarters," the guy said, reaching out to shake his hand.

"Oh. Okay," Gibbs said, slightly hesitantly. He shook the man's hand.

Gibbs was out of his comfort zone and wasn't sure what to expect from the Irish Gardai. Kavanagh led him to his car that was parked outside. Gibbs got in and they quickly got underway.

"So, where is Area Headquarters?" Gibbs asked.

"We're based in Galway City," Kavanagh told him. "I'm an Inspector with the SDU; eh, that's the Special Detective Unit. I've been assigned to help you out."

Gibbs turned to him and nodded, not overly impressed.

"Your boss asked us to keep tabs on your guy, Dunne, since he landed. He rented a car at the airport and looks like he's on his way to Mayo. Our intel is that his mother lives there," he told him.

"Great. Let's go get him," Gibbs said confidently.

"Ha! You're one of those then, are ye?" Kavanagh laughed heartily.

"What?"

"You know, those John Wayne types, goes in all guns blazing," Kavanagh replied, still smiling.

"Maybe?" Gibbs said defensively. "I prefer the direct approach."

"Me too, but I've got orders to bring you to HQ so that's what I'm going to do. To be honest, I think my boss is going to give you a lecture on what's acceptable and what's not acceptable in our little country," Kavanagh sighed apologetically.

Gibbs sighed deeply, but knew he couldn't ruffle any feathers because he might actually need their help. He gazed out the window as field after field of recently washed vegetation whizzed by. It was even greener than he had imagined. They drove for almost an hour, through picturesque towns and villages. The last few miles of the journey took him along the rugged Atlantic coastline. It was breath-taking.

They eventually reached the outskirts of the city.

"They booked you a room in a hotel if you want to freshen up first," Kavanagh told him.

"Nah, let's just do this," Gibbs said, impatiently.

Kavanagh took him to the station and introduced him to a few people as they walked through to the inner sanctum. He knocked at the door marked Superintendent and waited to be invited in.

"Come," a voice called from the other side.

Kavanagh held the door open for Gibbs. Inside, a broad, tall gentleman got to his feet and walked around the oak desk that was the centerpiece of the office, his hand extended cordially. He was an impressive looking man, standing a few inches taller than Gibbs. Gibbs estimated that they were close in age.

Kavanagh made the introductions.

"Agent Gibbs, this is Superintendent McSharry."

"Welcome, Agent Gibbs. It's not often we receive a visit from the US Navy or should I say NCIS?" McSharry said. "Please, sit. Can I offer you tea, coffee maybe?"

"Coffee would be good," Gibbs replied, sitting down.

McSharry called his secretary on the intercom and asked for a coffee for Gibbs.

"Now, I understand you've followed a suspected child abductor to our shores," McSharry said, returning to his seat. "Liam Dunne. I had our lads check him out. He never really registered on our radar while he lived here. His record is clean. I'm a little surprised that NCIS would be involved in what your director described as a domestic dispute?"

"It's a little more than a domestic, Sir."

"Dan, call me Dan," McSharry said.

"This man was released from prison on a technicality. He had been convicted of arms trafficking, but was also suspected of being a hit man for the IRA," Gibbs told him.

"The IRA has disbanded, Agent Gibbs," McSharry reminded him with a wry smile.

"You know as well as I do that where there is money to be made, a criminal organisation will re-invent itself, what it's called isn't important," Gibbs told him. "The IRA trained him. He may be freelance now, who knows, but he has the backing of some organisation."

"I agree Agent Gibbs. And I suspect that backing may be the O'Duin Gang. They're a group of former IRA militants who have expanded their interests into extortion, drugs, intimidation, counterfeiting, you name it. You ever heard of Conor O'Duin?"

"Nope," Gibbs replied.

"Maybe the name Conor Dunne would mean something then?"

"Dunne? Related to Liam?"

"Brothers. Conor uses the Gaelic version of the surname. He's the main player in the O'Duin Gang. He's a very dangerous man, Agent Gibbs. He has an army at his disposal. We need to approach this properly. I've no doubt that he helped his brother get the boy out of the States."

"It would make sense. He had to have someone working with him to get them out so quickly after he took the boy," Gibbs agreed.

"Well, you're only here to bring the boy back, am I right?" McSharry asked.

"That's all."

"Then you'll have any support you need. But we have to be careful not to interfere with any ongoing investigations into Conor O'Duin. Look, it's getting late and I'm sure you're tired. We booked you into the Galway Bay Hotel. I think you'll like it. Kavanagh here will pick you up first thing in the morning and we'll get the op underway," McSharry told him.

Gibbs thanked him but would have preferred to get the operation underway immediately. However, he knew he had to be patient. He didn't know the country and was unarmed so couldn't exactly go charging into this thing, guns blazing as Kavanagh would have said.

Kavanagh took him to his hotel and exchanged cell phone numbers with Gibbs.

"Call me if you need anything," he said considerately. "I'll pick you up at 7am."

Gibbs checked in and settled into his room. He checked his watch. It was 6.30pm. It would be 1.30pm at the Navy Yard. He called DiNozzo.

"Hey, Boss. Are you really in Ireland?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, DiNozzo. I really am."

"Any sign of Ryan's kid?" he enquired.

"I have an idea where he is. The local cops are arranging an operation in the morning. I have to sit tight until then," Gibbs told him.

"You should try the pubs while you're there, Boss. I'd say you'd like them. Try the Guinness and the Jameson, of course," Tony said, suspecting that his boss would not be happy sitting around killing time. Gibbs didn't comment on the suggestion.

"Everything okay there?" Gibbs asked.

"Quiet here, Boss, now that Dearing is out of the way," Tony replied. "Dr. Ryan called a few hours ago. She couldn't get you on your cell. You must have been in the air."

"Is she all right?" Gibbs asked, trying not to sound too concerned.

"She's scared," Tony replied.

"I'll call her later," Gibbs replied. "Is McGee there?"

"He's down with Abby," Tony told him.

"Did he get anything?" Gibbs asked.

"A few things. Court transcripts and some info on Dunne's known associates over here. There's nothing of note from his earlier life in Ireland," Tony told him.

"Yeah, I know. The Gardai had no record of him either," Gibbs replied. "Tell McGee to call if he finds anything new."

"Will do, Boss. Be sure to try the Guinness," Tony chirped as his boss hung up the phone.

Gibbs looked out his hotel room window. The sun was going down, so he decided to take a walk along the promenade which followed the coastline. As he walked, he relaxed a little and breathed in the fresh salty air. Cars passed slowly, some parked nearby and people got out and walked or jogged along the beach. A brisk wind was blowing in off the Atlantic and Gibbs wished that he had brought a heavier coat. All he had with him was the sports coat he had worn to work the previous day.

Gibbs walked for some time before turning back towards the hotel. The sun was almost gone now and there were fewer people around. The sound of the waves crashing onto the rocks kept a steady tempo. As he neared his hotel, he remembered to call Dr. Ryan. He walked down onto the beach, sat on a rock and took out his cell phone. He was scrolling down his contact list when out of the blue a cloth bag was pulled over his head and two pairs of hands tried to grab his arms.

Instinctively, he swung his elbow back, trying to connect with his attacker. He spun around and tried to fight off the hands grabbing him. He dropped his phone as he connected with a body. However, another pair of hands laid into his abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. He dropped to his knees and tried to catch his breath. Then he felt the muzzle of a gun beneath his chin and a voice ordered him to his feet. He complied slowly. He didn't have a choice. He was hurriedly escorted to a vehicle and shoved into the back seat, the gunman sitting in beside him.

The car took off at speed, leaving Gibbs stunned and wondering what was to come.

TBC

_**A/N - Dun, dun, dun! Hopefully you're still with me! A quick FYI - the Gardai are the Irish Police Force and you pronounce it "gardee".**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

In the back of the car, Gibbs' captors had restrained his hands, but had said barely anything to him. With the exception of a few threatening words and several slaps, communication was minimal. Gibbs was disorientated with the bag still over his head. He had no idea where they were going or who the men were. Eventually, Gibbs lost patience and demanded to know what was going on.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?"

"Shut up, Yank!" the voice beside him growled, the muzzle of the weapon poking Gibbs uncomfortably in the ribs to get the message across. Gibbs decided not to push his luck.

They drove at speed for what Gibbs estimated to be over thirty minutes. The car eventually slowed, turned right and the road surface changed. Gibbs assumed that they had now left the main thoroughfare. The car ground to a halt a few minutes later. He shook his head to try and loosen the hood, but it was of no use. He still couldn't see a thing. He heard the car doors open and sensed that the guy beside him got out. Then the door beside him was opened and he was unceremoniously hauled out of the car and frogmarched into a building. One of them shoved him roughly down onto his knees. His hands were still tied behind his back and he tried not to fall forward. He was breathing heavily, a result of the adrenaline pulsing through his veins. Finally, the hood was removed. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the change in the light. When it did, he could assess his situation.

There in front of him loomed a large figure of a man, only his eyes and lips visible from behind a black balaclava. Gibbs glanced around nervously and registered that there were two more men behind him. They were each visibly armed. He appeared to be in an old stone farm outbuilding of some description, although the smell alone could have told him that. His heart was pounding in his chest. His gaze jumped from one man to another. He had no idea what was going on.

"You need to go home, Yank," the guy in front of him said menacingly. "It's bad business to interfere with a man and his family. Normally, a bullet in the back of the head would be the way my boss would sort out this problem, but our colleague was specific. Just a warning this time, he said. He doesn't want to spark an international incident. He has a lot of _business associates_ in the States who might not take too kindly to us killing a Navy cop. Are ye understanding me, Yank?"

Gibbs looked into his captor's eyes, held his glare and then spit on his boots with contempt. Immediately, the two men behind him roughly grabbed his elbows, hauled him to his feet and held him fast.

"Ye stupid bastard," the big guy said angrily before punching Gibbs mercilessly below the ribs.

The blow took Gibbs' breath away and he tried to double over to protect his midriff, but was held firm by the two behind him. The next blow landed on his cheek, snapping his head backwards. His vision blurred and he felt as though he would pass out.

"Will I knee-cap him, sir?" asked one of the pair who was holding Gibbs upright.

"Not today, Seanie. We have our orders," their leader replied as he landed another punch on Gibbs' torso, this time to his left kidney.

The leader gestured for the two lads to let Gibbs go and, now semi-conscious, he dropped and slumped sideways, landing on the hay-covered floor. They each got in a kick or two to Gibbs' torso and legs as he lay there helpless. He curled into a fetal position, doing his best to protest himself. The lure of unconsciousness was enticing and Gibbs eventually gave in.

Meanwhile, Jack Kavanagh was trying to call Gibbs on his cell phone. His wife had told him to invite the American agent over for dinner that night, so he was trying to extend the invitation. The call kept going to voice mail. His wife insisted he call the hotel, so he did. He asked to be connected to his room. Again there was no answer. Kavanagh didn't live very far from the hotel so he opted to jump in the car and drive over there. When he got to the reception desk, he asked for Gibbs' room number. The receptionist was able to tell him that she had seen him head out a little over an hour ago.

Kavanagh thanked her. It was possible that Gibbs had taken a cab to the city centre, he considered. But he thought he should check in case he was just out getting some fresh air. He took a quick walk across the road to the beach. The footpath was lit by public lighting and there were a few people strolling along, but no sign of the American agent. He walked a little further along the promenade and tried the cell phone again. As he walked, he thought he heard the phone ring somewhere in the shadows on the beach. He strained to see, so he climbed over some rocks and down onto the sand. It was considerably darker down there, but there was no sign of anyone on the beach from what he could see. He dialled the cell phone number again. Then he saw it: a flickering light as the display panel lit up when the call connected and the phone started to ring. He picked up the phone.

Immediately, he sensed there was something wrong. He called out Gibbs' name and again looked around for activity on the beach, but there was nothing. He used the light of his own cell phone to examine the area and noted that the sand was kicked up and then multiple sets of footprints, leading back up towards the footpath. He immediately called his superintendent. His boss, Superintendent McSharry, was understandably anxious and there were some choice phrases heard as he ranted and raved. They immediately suspected that the agent had been taken by the criminal gang associated with Dunne. They also knew what that usually meant: his body would probably turn up in the next few days. This was a total disaster. Heads would roll, most probably his. The Department of Foreign Affairs would be on his back for weeks after this,not to mention the Department of Justice. They would want explanations, and convictions. His suspected that his life was going to be consumed by the fallout of this mess for years to come.

McSharry made the unenviable call to the Chief Superintendent, who then relayed the call all the way to the Commissioner. It was the Commissioner who placed the call to the Director of NCIS to inform him that his agent was missing. He was terribly apologetic and Director Vance was naturally concerned for the welfare of his agent. He thanked the Commissioner for letting him know the situation and asked to be kept updated. He then had to break the news to Gibbs' team. There was a sense of disbelief among the team. They couldn't believe this could happen so soon after his arrival. Abby was beside herself with worry and Ziva did her best to console her. They all wanted to do something, to go to Ireland and get him back but Vance decided that DiNozzo should go alone. He couldn't justify sending the whole team. Needless to say, Tony was eager and more than willing to travel to bring Gibbs back.

Meanwhile, Garda cars arrived at the crime scene soon after Kavanagh reported it. Officers marked the area with crime scene tape for the forensic guys to examine. Kavanagh spoke to his colleagues, telling them what he thought may have happened. He then stood, hands on hips, shaking his head forlornly and watched as the forensic unit photographed the scene. He kind of liked the gruff American and hated to think that something bad had happened to him. For some reason he felt guilty. He chided himself for not being more welcoming and inviting him for dinner earlier. Maybe this wouldn't have happened. He wondered if Gibbs had a family back home. He wondered who would grieve for him. He made a quick call to his own wife and explained what had happened. He told her that he had to work and wouldn't be home for dinner.

Some while later, miles from nowhere, Gibbs jolted awake. He thought he felt something warm and wet nuzzle the back of his neck. He raised his head and got a start when his gaze met that of a rather large, black and white dairy cow. He blinked deliberately to check if he was hallucinating. He wasn't. He dropped his head back down and the suddenness of the movement caused the cow to move away. Gibbs then realised that he was face down in wet grass. He tried to roll over only to be halted by his injured body's protests. He clutched his aching ribs with his right hand and with the support of his left arm, managed to raise himself up and get his knees under him. Slowly and painfully he made it to his feet. The moon was bright as it peeked from behind the clouds in the night sky. It gave an eerie illumination the countryside. Gibbs looked around. He was in a field full of cattle. There must have been at least thirty of them. He stumbled on unsteady legs towards the gate of the field where he had been dumped. He made it to the road and looked up and down, unsure which way to start. For no particular reason, he chose right and limped along the middle of the road, still clutching his ribs. It was barely a road, more of a country lane, a wild hedgerow on each side. He could see no lights or sign of a house or buildings. He had no idea how long he had been walking before he saw the lights of a car approaching. He waved frantically, hoping the driver would see him. The car slowed and the elderly lady stared at him. She looked scared as she slowly continued past him.

Gibbs yelled as she passed him. His heart sank as she disappeared down the road and he was alone once again in the night. Little did he know that as soon as she had driven a short distance away, she pulled over and called the emergency number, 112. The call was routed to the Galway Gardai. The operators connected the report to the missing American and eventually details reached Detective Inspector Kavanagh, who was still at the initial crime scene. He ran to his car and hoped that this mysterious person on the Clifden road wasn't just some drunk farmer walking home from the pub. But he knew the area a little and knew that it was a long way from a pub or houses. He hoped that it was the missing agent.

He sped to the area, followed the directions that the Central Command operator had given him, courtesy of the old lady. He slowed as he left the main road and turned onto a lesser route. He drove slowly down the narrow road for several minutes. Then suddenly in his headlights, there was a dark figure limping towards him. He slowed to a stop and got out of the car. Gibbs' bloodied and muddied form staggered towards him. Kavanagh ran to grab him, thinking the agent looked like he couldn't stay on his feet much longer.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" he said upon seeing the state of him. "Come on, let's get you in the car. I'll take you to the hospital," he said, helping Gibbs to the car.

"No!" Gibbs said weakly, as Kavanagh lowered him gently into the front passenger seat. "No hospital."

"Why not? It looks like they really did a number on you, my friend," Kavanagh remarked. "I can't leave you like this."

"I hate hospitals. Anyway, it looks worse than it is," Gibbs said, breathing through his pain.

"I sure hope so because from where I'm sitting, it looks feckin' terrible," Kavanagh said, getting into the driver seat and doing a U-turn.

Gibbs put his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. He just needed to rest and catch his breath.

To be continued...

**_A/N - hope you're still enjoying this and that I'm not going too slow for you. Still writing it so not even sure what happens myself! And thanks for your reviews, btw, even if I am terrible at replying._**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N - apologies for being slow getting these chapter up. RL gets in the way sometimes.**_

Chapter 4

Gibbs didn't remember much else of the journey back to Galway or much of the remainder of that night. The next time he woke he was in a single bed in a darkened bedroom. He was completely disorientated and realised that he had no idea where he was. His eyes scanned the surroundings. There were posters of Manchester United and Ben 10 on the walls. Boxes of toys were stacked in one corner and bookshelves adorned with model cars, tractors and some books in the other. From what he saw he figured that he was in a child's bedroom. He had no recollection of how he had got there.

He moved to sit up and his body reminded him of his injuries. It was then that he realised that he was naked. He lifted the sheets to check and was relieved to find that at least he had his shorts on. Clutching his bruised ribs, he swung his legs off the bed and looked around for his clothes. There was no sign of them. He limped to the door, noticing for the first time how painful his right ankle was. He looked down and it was swollen and bruised, as was a large proportion of his body. He continued out the door and discovered that he was upstairs in someone's house.

He turned towards the stairs. Grabbing the handrail, he eased his aching body down the stairs, one step at a time. Upon reaching the bottom, he could hear a radio on and there was an alluring smell coming from the kitchen. He rounded the bottom bannister and got a shock when an attractive young woman appeared in the doorway in front of him. She stopped suddenly, her hand flying to her chest, obviously not expecting to see him there.

"Jesus, ye put the heart crossways in me," the woman said with a nervous giggle.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," Gibbs said apologetically.

"That's okay, Love. Come on in and sit down before you fall down," she said, guiding him to a chair at the kitchen table. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore…..and confused," Gibbs admitted, stroking the stubble on his chin.

"Of course you are. You took quite a beating. I'm Claire, by the way, Jack's wife. He's just gone to drop the boys to school. He'll be back in a few minutes. Are you hungry? I kept you some breakfast just in case," she said, opening the top oven and taking a warm plate of sausages, bacon and eggs from it.

Gibbs wasn't usually a breakfast person, but took one look at the plate and realised that he was starving. It dawned on him that he hadn't eaten a meal since he left Washington.

"Thanks," he said gratefully. "I don't suppose you have a shirt I could borrow?" he asked, conscious of his state of undress.

"Of course. I'm sorry. I took yours and washed them. Here you go. It's one of Jack's," she said, handing him a t-shirt from the ironing basket.

"Thanks," he said, taking it from her. He tried to put it on over his head, but it was proving painful and difficult because of his tender ribs.

"Here, let me help you," she said, noticing his discomfort. She took the shirt from him and gently guided his arms through. Gibbs felt a little embarrassed, but was grateful for her kindness.

"Thanks."

"I don't think anything is broken," Claire announced, quite confidently. "I palpated the area last night and couldn't feel any lumps, so I think you were lucky. The bruising is quite severe though, especially around your back and kidneys. If you feel any discomfort or notice blood in your urine, you let me know, okay? There could be internal damage. I'd be happier if you let me take you to the hospital."

"I'm okay. You sound like you know what you're talking about," Gibbs said, before taking a mouthful of egg.

"I should hope so. I've been a nurse for the past ten years," she said.

"Ah, I'm in good hands then," Gibbs replied, his tongue probing his swollen lip.

"This isn't a first for you, is it? I couldn't help but notice the scars on your legs," she said with her back to him as she buttered toast.

"I've had a few close calls," Gibbs replied. "I got those serving in the Gulf. I got caught in an explosion."

"You were a soldier?"

"A Marine," Gibbs said correcting her. "After the Marines, I joined NCIS, where I managed to add a few more to the collection."

Claire turned and smiled at him.

"Well now you'll have a couple of new ones to bring home from Ireland, won't ye?" she said with a twinkle in her eye. "Tea or coffee?"

"Coffee," he replied.

They continued to chat and drink coffee. She was a very attractive, he realised. Pale porcelain skin, shoulder length auburn hair, infectious laugh, everything he liked in a woman. She had a relaxed air about her and an uncanny way of making him open up. He hardly knew her, but found himself telling her personal things about himself. For a while, he almost forgot why he was there. Then he heard a key in the front door and her husband arrived home.

"Good to see you up, Agent Gibbs," Kavanagh said genuinely. "McSharry will be relieved. They had to call your director and tell him you were MIA. He spent most of last night explaining to the top brass what had happened. There will be an enquiry for sure. Only a few people knew you were in town, so everyone's asking how Dunne found out? It was Dunne, I presume."

"No idea. They covered their faces," Gibbs replied with a shrug.

"How are you feeling anyway?" Kavanagh asked. "You look like crap if you don't mind me saying so."

"I'll live, thanks to your lovely wife," he said, turning towards Claire. "But I'm ready to get back to work," he said with determination.

"I really think you should take it easy for a couple of days, Agent Gibbs," Claire said, putting her hand gently on his shoulder. "You took quite a beating."

"I don't have a couple of days. I promised the boy's mother that I would find her son," he said, allowing his emotional attachment to the case come to the fore. "I can't let her down."

Claire's female intuition told her that Gibbs had a relationship with the boy's mother. It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

"Okay then, if you insist, but at least finish your breakfast. A few minutes won't make any difference. I'll get your clothes from the dryer," Claire said, leaving the kitchen for a few moments. "And I'll get you some painkillers. You'll probably need them," she shouted from the adjacent laundry room.

"She can't help but worry. She's a nurse and a mother," Jack explained, throwing his eyes to the heavens. "What a combination!"

"So I discovered," Gibbs replied. "Listen, Kavanagh, I want to thank you for….you know."

"Not a problem, Gibbs. But you can do one thing for me," Kavanagh said seriously.

"Yeah?"

"Take a shower? You smell like…..cow dung," Jack said, before bursting out laughing.

Gibbs couldn't help but laugh also, but his laugh was cut short by a stab of pain in his ribcage and he winced. Kavanagh threw a fluffy bath towel at him and pointed him in the direction of the bathroom.

The jets of the power shower felt amazing on Gibbs' aching body. He stood under the warm spray, hung his head forward and allowed the water to course over him for ages. Much as he would have liked to stay there, he had a job to do, so forced himself to step out. As he towelled himself dry, he assessed his injuries. His ribcage was an array of purples, blues and blacks and felt very tender. A distinct boot print adorned his right thigh and some lesser bruising was dotted lower down his leg. He stood at the sink and wiped the steam from the mirror so he could examine the damage to his face.

He'd seen worse. His lower lip was split and swollen. His left cheek bruised and grazed. Two neat sutures pulled together the sides of a rather nasty cut over his eyebrow. He admired what he presumed to be Claire's handiwork. He dressed in what were mostly his own clothes. Claire hadn't been able to get the blood stains from his shirt, so she gave him one belonging to Jack.

When he eventually arrived back down the stairs, he looked and felt a hell of a lot better.

Back at the Navy Yard, Vance had provided McGee with the name and the contact details of the Gardaí, who had been assigned to assist Gibbs in Ireland. McGee was desperately trying to get through to Superintendent McSharry at Garda Headquarters. After several failed attempts, he finally was connected.

"Sir, I'm Special Agent Timothy McGee with NCIS. I understand Agent Gibbs has been missing since last night. I was wondering if there had been any update," Tim asked.

"Yes, Agent McGee. In fact, I was about to place a call to your director. Agent Gibbs had a bit of trouble last night. He was lifted and roughed up a little. He lost his phone in the struggle," McSharry explained.

"Lifted?"

"Taken against his will," McSharry clarified.

"Is he alright?"

"As far as I know, he's okay. A bit sore from what I understand. I haven't actually seen him. He stayed with one of my officers last night. I can give you his number and you can call him," McSharry suggested.

McGee took down Kavanagh's number and immediately called him. He explained who he was and asked to speak with Gibbs. Kavanagh duly obliged and handed the phone to Gibbs.

"Yeah, McGee?"

"Boss! Thank God! We were worried about you. Are you okay? They said that you had been attacked or something," McGee said, sounding concerned.

"Or something," Gibbs replied, not divulging much. "What have you got for me, McGee?"

"I dug a little deeper into Dunne's family and it turns out he had a brother, Conor, who is a serious criminal in Ireland and Great Britain. He was suspected to have links with the IRA back in the day, but now is freelancing his services throughout the British Isles and Europe," McGee explained.

"I think I met him," Gibbs said cryptically. "Or at least some friends of his."

"Boss, are you sure you're okay? You don't sound so good," McGee asked once more.

"I'm fine, McGee, put DiNozzo on," Gibbs said sounding his usual gruff self.

"Eh, Tony's not here, Boss."

"Where the hell is he, McGee?"

"I'd say he's almost there by now," McGee said hesitantly.

"Where? Here? I thought I said I didn't want any of you involved in this," Gibbs yelled angrily.

"You were missing, Boss. We thought something had …I mean we…... Vance sent him," McGee stammered, attempting to explain.

"Ah, hell," Gibbs growled and hung up abruptly.

Once he saw Gibbs was finished his call, Kavanagh approached him once again.

"So, are you ready to go?"

"Sure, where exactly are we going?" Gibbs asked.

"The armed Special Response Unit is standing by outside Ballina. We'll head up to Dunne's mother's house. The lads watching the house confirm that the rental car is still parked outside. We'll try the softly, softly approach first and hope that works. We try to avoid confrontation if we can. Maybe Dunne's mother will talk sense into him. Irish guys always listen to their Mammies," Kavanagh said with a grin.

Gibbs didn't register Kavanagh's attempt at humour. He was more focused on what may happen.

"So, do I get a weapon?" Gibbs asked, feeling vulnerable without his Sig.

"You won't need one," Kavanagh replied. "Like I said, we talk first; only shoot as a last resort."

"Oh, great. Has anyone told Dunne?" Gibbs muttered sarcastically.

Kavanagh laughed heartily. The American Agent was growing on him.

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Kavanagh drove for over an hour. A soft drizzle fell, but did little to take away from the ever-changing scenery. They left behind the coastal cliff-top seascapes to cut through miles of rambling stone-walled fields as they headed inland. Soon they were being dwarfed by imposing mountain peaks towering above the sheep-strewn hillsides. Mirror-like lakes reflected their prowess. Even Gibbs found their beauty a welcome respite from the stress he had been under recently and could understand why people moved to places like that. With Kavanagh driving, he was able to relax and take it all in. For a short time, he felt like a tourist.

Approximately two miles from their destination, they pulled into a laneway away from the main road. Kavanagh got out of the car and spoke briefly to a man, Donovan, who was leaning against a car. He turned out to be another detective.

"Okay, the rental car drove away fifteen minutes ago with only one occupant; the description fit Dunne. So they've agreed to let us approach the house alone," Kavanagh said, getting back into the car.

"Just the two of us?" Gibbs asked.

"I'll go by myself if you'd prefer? See which way the land lies," he said quite seriously.

"No, I didn't mean….,"Gibbs started to say.

"Don't worry, Gibbs," Jack said confidently. "They're watching the house. The first sign of trouble and the cavalry will arrive. Like I said, no need to worry."

Gibbs liked Kavanagh's confidence, but his methods were so different compared to how Gibbs and his team would approach something like this. He couldn't help but feel helpless. They got underway again and soon took a right turn off the main road and up another narrow laneway. The lane cut through a wooded area and eventually led into a clearing. In the middle of the clearing stood a two-storey farm house, surrounded by a gravel driveway. Some distance to the left of the house stood an open hay shed, half filled with baled hay, a tractor parked outside. Not far from there stood stables and some other outbuildings. There didn't appear to be any signs of life.

Kavanagh drove the car up close to the front door of the house and parked it. He got out, looked around and waited for Gibbs to join him.

"The direct approach," he said to Gibbs before ringing the doorbell.

He heard some movement from inside and soon the door opened. A grey-haired lady of approximately sixty years of age held the door and looked at them above the rim of her spectacles.

"Are you Eileen Dunne?" Kavanagh asked officiously.

"I am," the woman replied. "And you are?"

"I'm Inspector Jack Kavanagh, Garda Siochana and this here is Special Agent Jethro Gibbs from America," he told her, showing her his ID.

"What can I do for you?" she asked with a worried expression, which changed to curiosity when she noticed Gibbs' battered face.

"I was wondering if you've seen Liam recently," Jack asked.

"Why? Did he do that?" she asked, referring to Gibbs' injuries.

"Have you seen him?" Kavanagh asked again, ignoring her question.

"Yes. What did he do?" she asked, sensing he was in trouble.

"Can we come in?" Jack asked cheekily.

"Well, I suppose you can," she replied, rather unenthusiastically and stood back and allowed them in. "This way."

She led them to the sitting room and invited them to be seated on the large sofa that took center stage in the room.

"So, are you going to tell me what he's supposed to have done this time?" Eileen asked, sounding exasperated.

"He kidnapped his son and put the boy's mother in hospital," Gibbs said, speaking up for the first time.

Dunne's mother considered what he said, then took a deep breath. Her lips pursed and a frown grew on her forehead. She hung her head, contemplating his words. Then she looked up at them and spoke.

"I knew there was something wrong when he appeared here yesterday with the boy. I hadn't heard from him in months and all of a sudden he turns up on my doorstep. The poor lad was exhausted and quiet in himself. He didn't seem at all happy to be here. I sensed something was wrong. Liam said that it was just jet-lag, but I knew there was something else," she told them.

"Is Parker here, M'am?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, he's upstairs resting," she replied.

"Is there anyone else in the house, Mrs. Dunne?" Kavanagh asked, ever conscious of their personal security.

"No, just me and the young fella. I suppose you'll be taking him back to his mother in America," she said, an air of sadness in her voice.

"Yes, M'am," Gibbs replied.

He watched the old lady's face change. Her eyes brimmed with tears and she bit her top lip. She called up the stairs.

"Parker! Can you come down here a minute, Love?"

"Coming."

Gibbs stood as he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Parker came through the door hesitantly. He was stunned to see Gibbs standing in his grandmother's sitting room.

"Gibbs? How did you get…?" he started to ask before noticing the cuts and bruises. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. How about you?" Gibbs asked.

"Oh…..I'm okay," he replied. "Where's my mom? Is she…..?"

"She's going to be fine. She's worried about you, though," Gibbs told him.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Dunne, but where exactly is your son?" Kavanagh asked, interrupting the reunion.

"He went to drop off the rental car in town. They'll be back soon," she told him.

"They?"

"He mentioned that some business associates might be coming back with him," she told him.

"Okay, maybe it would be best if we go now and avoid any confrontation," Kavanagh suggested, getting to his feet.

As he did, he heard a noise from the kitchen. He threw a questioning look at Mrs. Dunne as he reached for his sidearm.

"I thought you said there was no one else in the house," he said accusatorially.

"There wasn't. It's the farm hands coming in for tea," she said, looking at her watch.

Kavanagh relaxed, accepting her explanation. It would not be an unusual practice in the farming world for the lady of the house to feed the workers. Unfortunately, letting his guard down was a mistake. Mrs. Dunne was the first to notice the man standing at the door into the kitchen. He was holding a rifle.

"Tom! What are doing with that thing in my house?" she asked, chastising him. "You know the rules."

"Sit down, Eileen," he said gruffly.

Mrs. Dunne looked shocked at his rudeness and did as he said. Gibbs instinctively stepped in front of Parker. As Kavanagh turned, he reached for his weapon again.

"Don't do it, Cop, or you'll be leaving in a box," he said menacingly.

Kavanagh opened his hands out and held them away from his body in surrender. As he did so, another younger man stepped out from behind Tom. He was armed with a handgun.

"Seanie, what in God's name are you doing?" Mrs. Dunne demanded. "Put away those guns. Why are you doing this?"

"Sorry, Mrs. Dunne, but Liam won't be too happy if you let these bozos take his kid," Seanie told her.

Seanie then smiled in Gibbs' direction.

"How are you doing, Yank?" he asked.

Gibbs didn't answer. He just glared at him. He had no doubt that these were two of the men that took him from the beach the previous evening.

"Hey, Kid, your father told you to stay in your room. Get back up there," Tom said, waving the barrel of the rifle in the direction of the stairs.

Parker didn't move. He looked toward Gibbs for advice. Tom advanced towards the two and shoved the barrel of the rifle under Gibbs' chin, an action meant to act as an incentive to Parker. Gibbs didn't flinch, but Parker quickly retreated.

"Over there," Tom then said, indicating for Gibbs to move to the sofa. Then he said to his partner, "Take his gun."

Seanie kept his gun trained on Kavanagh while he reached into his jacket and removed the weapon from its holster. He ordered Kavanagh to sit with Gibbs.

"You should have taken my advice and gone home, Yank," Tom said, shaking his head. "I have a feeling this isn't going to end too well for you."

"I wouldn't count on it," Gibbs mumbled.

The two farmhands laughed out loud at his audacity. Gibbs grinned confidently, but said nothing. Kavanagh, on the other hand, was worried. He had no idea how this was going to end. There was no way the two armed men were going to let them go and with both him and Gibbs unarmed, the odds of them overpowering the men were not good.

Meanwhile, Donovan had returned to his position on higher ground that looked down onto the farm. Kavanagh and the American Agent had been inside for a while when he noticed a motorcycle bouncing through a field at the rear of the property. It was heading in the direction of the house. He decided it best to warn Kavanagh so he tried to call him on his cell phone. He waited patiently for the phone to be picked up, but it rang out before going to voicemail.

The shrill ringtone of Kavanagh's phone shattered the silence in the farmhouse sitting room. Tom marched over and stuck his hand into Kavanagh's pocket and took away the phone. He dropped it into a vase of fresh flowers that adorned the mantle.

Donovan waited a few seconds then tried again. This time he received an out of service message. He thought it odd; maybe the signal was patchy where they were located. He decided not to panic. Everything looked calm enough from where he was standing. He would try him again in a couple of minutes. Meanwhile, he watched though binoculars as the motorcyclist parked his bike and entered the house through the back door.

"Tom!" a voice called from the kitchen.

"In here," Tom replied.

"What the fuck is going on?" the guy asked as he entered the sitting room and saw two armed men, two strangers and his mother.

"Conor, tell them to put away the guns," Eileen said, pleading with her son.

Conor looked at the two men shifting nervously on the sofa. He sighed audibly. Gibbs watched him as he approached Tom and they exchanged whispered words. Conor nodded, Tom agreed and then Conor turned to his mother.

"Ma, you should go have a lie down," he suggested, taking the elderly woman by the hand and helping her up from the chair. "Don't worry about this. It's just a misunderstanding. Go on upstairs and I'll bring you a cup of tea in a while."

Eileen looked at her son and then at the two men being held at gunpoint. She was scared, not for herself but for them.

"Conor, you are to let these men go, do you hear me?"

"Yeah, Ma, I hear you. We're just going to have a chat before Liam gets home," Conor told her.

Gullibly, she believed her son.

Once his mother had gone, Conor approached the two men.

"Is this the guy you worked over last night?" he asked Seanie.

"Yeah, that's him."

"Not very bright, is he?" Conor asked.

Tom and Seanie sniggered.

"Seanie, move the car into one of the sheds. Get it out of sight," Conor ordered. "Looks like we'll be doing this the hard way, fellas," he said, turning to the two law men.

_To be continued_.

**_A/N - thanks to all the reviewers, my fab regulars as well as newbies and guests. And to Johnny – you're right, I should have been clearer about the duress Parker was under and the control his father, Liam, had over him. It was clear in my head but I realise that I never referred to it in earlier chapters. I do plan to touch on it later though. Thanks guy, till next time..._**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Detective Mike Donovan was hunkered down behind some brush that dotted the crest of a hill overlooking Dunne's farmhouse. Using field glasses, he was watching, waiting to see how Kavanagh and Gibbs got on talking to Dunne's mother. He had seen a motorcyclist arrive at the house, but did not yet know the identity of the visitor. He was getting anxious now because Kavanagh was not answering his calls. His gut was telling him that something was wrong. His instinct was proved right a short time later, when he saw a young male exit front door of the house and glance around.

He then proceeded to sit into the driver's seat of Kavanagh's car and start it up. Donovan watched as the guy drove the car into a hayshed and then parked a large John Deere tractor in front to hide it from view.

"Ah, shit!" he groaned, realising that his colleague and the American agent were in trouble.

He radioed the sergeant of the SRU and advised him that there may be a possible hostage situation unfolding at the farmhouse. The SRU had been waiting for instructions in town. Kavanagh had left them on standby, in case they were needed to stage and assault on the property. They were only ten minutes away.

Inside the house, Gibbs and Kavanagh were trying to gauge the intentions of the three men holding them. They watched Conor Dunne as he made a whispered phone call. Tom stood at the front window and kept an eye outside. Seanie just stood looking at the two with a slightly disturbing smile on his face. He never once let down his pistol. Kavanagh and Gibbs exchanged looks, but neither was going to try anything yet. They didn't have a hope of overpowering their captors as it stood.

Unaware of what was unfolding in County Mayo,Special Agent Tony DiNozzo landed in Shannon Airport. He flirted unashamedly with the hostesses as he disembarked. As he exited the arrivals lounge, he was met by a young uniformed Garda, who informed him that he would be driving him to Galway. They were almost at their car when the officer received a call. He then looked at the agent with raised eyebrows and said:

"Change of plans. Come with me."

Tony looked at him curiously.

"What's going on?"

"I'm not sure, exactly," the young Garda admitted. "I've been told to take you to the helipad. They're sending a helicopter to take you to Ballina."

"Ballina? What's a Ballina?" Tony asked, understandably confused.

"Ballina? It's a town," the guard said, leaving out the word 'stupid' at the end of his sentence. How could he not know what Ballina was?

"Of course it is," Tony said, giving the young man one of his killer smiles. "I don't suppose you know why I'm being flown to this, obviously important metropolis?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"I don't have the details, Sir. They just said you were needed there immediately."

"Okay then, Can't wait," Tony mumbled, continuing to follow the guard back towards the airport terminal.

Instead of going through the terminal, they skirted around the outside and entered through a smaller building. They walked straight through to the tarmac, only pausing for the Garda to show his ID and explain his orders to security. A Garda Traffic Corps helicopter was sitting on the helipad, rotors still running. The pilot was standing outside and waved the pair over. He introduced himself briefly, gave Tony a headset and strapped him into his seat. Tony waved goodbye to the young Garda as the chopper rose smoothly into the air and headed northwards.

Donovan cursed when he saw a Land Rover tearing up the lane towards the house. He watched as it screeched to a halt and two men climbed out. The men let themselves into the house through the front door. Mike radioed in the new information to the SRU.

Inside, Gibbs flinched when the front door burst open and two more men entered. He glanced at Kavanagh and could see his nervousness written across his face. Conor greeted one of the men, who Gibbs recognized as Liam Dunne, with a brotherly hug. The other man stood at the front door and didn't come into the sitting room.

Liam and Conor turned to look at their two guests. Liam approached Gibbs with a scowl on his face.

"You've some neck coming into my mother's house like this," he snarled, grabbing Gibbs by the shirt collar and raising him from the seat. Gibbs had no choice but to stand. "Hah!" he said, then shoving him back into the seat. "Don't know what Samantha sees in you, Agent Gibbs," he laughed.

Gibbs' blood boiled. He unleashed one of his infamous glares, but it had no effect on his tormentor. Had he been in the whole of his health, Gibbs would have fought back, but although angry, he wasn't stupid. They were seriously outgunned and outnumbered. He just had to be patient. Kavanagh had mentioned that if there was trouble, the cavalry would come. He just hoped they'd come soon. This situation was getting serious.

"Take them outside," Liam said to Tom and Seanie. "We can't be messing up Mammie's rug," he said, winking to the two boys.

"Come on, get up," Tom ordered, sticking the barrel of the rifle into Kavanagh's back.

"Look, you can't do this," Kavanagh said as he walked though into the kitchen. "They're watching the house. You'll be surrounded in minutes."

"Yeah, sure we will," Tom said, poking him with the weapon. Gibbs and Seanie followed.

They walked through the kitchen, leaving the two brothers deep in discussions in the sitting room. As they exited the house, Gibbs scanned the farm yard. A row of stables and sheds ran parallel to the house about thirty metres from the back door. A concrete yard spread out in front of them. It was too open to try and make a run for it. He turned around and looked back at the house as he walked. He noticed Parker peering out from an upstairs window. Seanie shoved the pistol into his lower back, to remind him of his presence and hurry him on. Gibbs turned back and continued to walk.

Without warning, Kavanagh suddenly spun around and grabbed the barrel of Tom's rifle and tried to wrench it out of his hands. Gibbs took it as a signal, so he too decided to act. But his split second delay from decision to action gave Seanie the edge. With Gibbs already inhibited by his earlier injuries, his movement was slow and Seanie handled him swiftly. One swipe with the pistol to the side of the head put him down easily. Seanie then fired a single shot at Kavanagh, who yelped before falling to the ground clutching his side.

"What the fuck is going on out here?" Liam yelled, running from the house and seeing the two men on the ground. "You were to lock them up, you idiots. I didn't want them killed here."

"Sorry, Boss," Tom said, straightening himself up. "The guard tried to take the gun. They were going to make a run for it."

"Jesus! Do I have to do everything myself?" Dunne sighed. "Is he dead?" he asked, gesturing to Gibbs' prone figure.

"Nah, he's breathing. I didn't hit him that hard," Seanie reassured him.

"Great! Well, do ye think ye can handle getting them into one of the stables without any further incident?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry, Liam," Tom said, sounding afraid.

Parker had been watching from his room upstairs and was horrified to see Gibbs being struck and crumpling to the ground. When the shot rang out and he saw Kavanagh drop to the ground, clutching his side and writhing in agony, Parker was petrified. He had never witnessed such violence before. He wanted to run, to get away from it all, but he felt trapped. He had nowhere to go. He knew that his father had returned, he had heard his voice downstairs, and knew that there were several other men in the house. He looked around to see what his options were. He had no phone. The bedroom door was now locked.

His father appeared in the yard and was yelling at the two armed men outside. Parker's instincts were to try and help Gibbs; after all, he wouldn't be in this predicament if it weren't for him. His urge to help was heightened when he saw them drag Gibbs and Kavanagh into the stable and leave them there, locking them in. He took a deep breath; he needed to think.

From his perch overlooking the farm, Detective Donovan was on his radio frantically reporting that a shot had been fired. He could see the front of the property and a portion of the back but couldn't see what was going on. He trained his binoculars on the windows of the house, trying to see anything, but there was little to be seen. Once or twice he thought he saw movement, but couldn't identify who it was. He scanned the rest of the property. A few minutes after the shot, he saw Kavanagh stumbling towards the stable block and disappearing through the door. An armed man followed him. He felt sick when seconds later another man dragged what appeared to be a body in through the same door. Had they shot the American?

He was quickly back onto command to inform them of the situation. SRU were positioning themselves around the farm. He watched as a police vehicle slowly concealed itself in the copse just off the laneway. Several marked and unmarked vehicles had arrived on the road behind the hill. There was movement in the fields around the house, barely visible to the eye. He was soon joined by the unit commander on the hill. He told Donovan that they would first try and establish contact with the occupants of the house. They were aware that there was an elderly lady and a child in the house, so they didn't want innocent casualties, should they have to breach.

His radio burst into life again; this time it was the police helicopter informing him that they were only minutes away and enquiring if there was a suitable landing spot. Mike asked them to land a distance away, so as not to alert the occupants of the house of their presence. About ten minutes later, a police SUV pulled up on the road and DiNozzo and another guard emerged. The guard pointed up the hill towards Donovan's position.

DiNozzo grumbled as he trudged up the grassy slope, unimpressed that his expensive loafers were getting muddied. He still was unaware of the unfolding situation at the farmhouse, although his gut told him that something was up.

"Hey. How're you doing? Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS," he said, extending his hand to Donovan.

"Hi, Detective Mike Donovan," he said by way of introduction. "Good to have you here."

"What's going on here, Detective?" DiNozzo asked.

"Your agent, Gibbs, is down on the farm along with a colleague of mine. The boy and his grandmother are inside the house, however. So are her sons, Conor and Liam Dunne, and by my count at least two other men. About twenty minutes ago I heard a gunshot and saw one man being dragged to the stable block to the left and the other, also possibly injured, was locked in with him. Our men are going to approach through the fields from behind the farmhouse," he explained, pointing to an area where the unit was waiting for the word to go. "We are about to try and make contact by phone and hope we can negotiate the safe return of our officers and the boy and his grandmother. But these boys are unpredictable, Agent DiNozzo, especially Conor Dunne. He's the sort who doesn't care who gets in the way."

"Could you see who was shot?" Tony asked, obviously concerned for his boss's welfare.

"Couldn't tell from here," Donovan lied, not wanting to make any sweeping assumptions. He only suspected it was Gibbs, but he wasn't sure.

"Okay," Tony accepted.

"The SRU Sergeant is attempting contact. He'll let us know. If it goes south, we'll go in. I have a spare vest in the car if you want to join us," he offered.

"Absolutely," Tony replied, and the two men hurried back down the hill to the road.

As Tony stumbled and slid down the grassy hill, he felt a little sick. He should never have let Gibbs travel after Dunne on his own. Now, Gibbs was in danger, possibly hurt, maybe even dead. He swore that he would always have Gibbs' six. Now, he felt as though he let him down when he needed him the most. He hoped that he'd have a chance to make it up to him.

To be continued!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N - thanks for reviewing and the encouragement. We're nearing the end. Hope you like!

**Chapter 7**

Inside the locked stable, Gibbs started to stir. Kavanagh was alerted to his impending consciousness by the guttural groan that he emitted shortly before rolling onto his side.

"Are you back with me, Gibbs?" Kavanagh asked, his breath coming as pants.

"Ah, Jeez," Gibbs grunted, clutching his pounding head while attempting to sit up. "Where are we?" he asked, squinting through the darkness.

"Stable," Kavanagh replied breathlessly.

Gibbs noticed the man's laboured breathing and sensed that something was wrong.

"Are you okay, Jack?" he asked.

"I've been better," Jack replied, pressing on his wounded side.

In the gloom, Gibbs was unable to make out the blood staining Kavanagh's shirt and jacket. The only source of light entering their concrete prison was a rectangular window high up the back wall, roughly three feet wide, allowing a beam to reflect a few feet up on the door opposite. However, it wasn't enough to light the entire area.

"Are you hit?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah, he plugged me in the side," Kavanagh said, leaning his head back against the wall as another wave of pain took hold.

"How bad?" Gibbs asked, crawling closer to his new friend.

"No idea, never been shot before," Jack admitted. "I'm still alive, so that has to be good, right?"

"Sure," Gibbs said, crawling to Jack's side. "Let's have a look."

Jack released his grasp on his side and Gibbs leaned close, trying to see how bad it was. It was hard to see, but he felt around the area and there was little doubt that the wound was bleeding badly. He put his hand around Kavanagh's back and was somewhat relieved to find that the bullet had gone through.

"It's a through and through," Gibbs announced, as he stood up and started to strip off his jacket and shirt.

"Fab! What are…you doing?" he asked, his breathing becoming rapid as he fought to stay conscious.

"I need to stop the bleeding," Gibbs said, removing his shirt. He tore the sleeves and then ripped strips from the bottom of it. "I'll need your belt," he said to Jack, kneeling back down and starting to unbuckle the injured man's belt.

"Eh, you could at least …. buy me dinner first?" Jack said, starting to laugh, before his laugh became a cough.

"In your dreams," Gibbs said, as he freed the leather belt from the trouser loops.

"Okay, Cheapskate! I'd settle for a pint right instead," Kavanagh said, trying to smile through his pain.

"Deal," Gibbs replied.

He hurriedly fashioned padded bandages from the strips of shirt and placed one over the entry wound and the other over the exit wound.

"This is gonna hurt," he warned, as he tightened Jack's belt around his abdomen to hold the bandages.

Kavanagh bit back the urge to cry out and somehow still managed to cling to consciousness. Gibbs patted him on the shoulder.

"I'll try the door," Gibbs said, sensing it would be a useless exercise, but he had to at least try.

He got to his feet and immediately the concrete room started to spin. He took a few steps towards the door before reaching desperately for the wall to stop it spinning. As he leaned on the wall, the nausea that he had been fighting since he woke took hold and he threw up.

"Concussion," Kavanagh said in whispered breath.

Gibbs cursed his luck and knew the guard was right. He salivated and spat to try and get the taste out of his mouth. It didn't really work. He made it as far as the door and examined it. It was a traditional split stable door; the upper part would normally be open to allow the horse to stick his head out. He hoped that maybe they hadn't secured one of the locks. He put his shoulder to the lower door and pushed against it. It didn't budge. He heard the bolt rattle on the other side. He reached up higher and tried the upper one. Again it was no use. Gibbs lashed out and kicked the door, startling Kavanagh.

"We're not getting outta here," Kavanagh sighed, despondently accepting his fate.

"Hey," Gibbs yelled, again startling Kavanagh. "Don't you give up on me. You have a family to think about. We are getting out of here, do you hear me?" he insisted, returning quickly over to Kavanagh, kneeling down and getting in his face.

Kavanagh's eyes opened wide as he met Gibbs' crazed glare. Then Jack began to chuckle at Gibbs' intensity.

"Crazy American!" he groaned, before his head lolled forward.

"No! No, you don't," Gibbs said, taking the wounded man's head in his hands and slapping his face to wake him up. "Open your eyes, Jack. Come on….Claire will kill me if I don't bring you back. Come on….tell me about your boys."

Jack's eyelids flickered at the thought of his sons and his eyes opened.

"My boys," he said, tears forming in his eyes. "My little lads…Eoin….and Colm. Eoin and Colm."

"You're one lucky man, Jack. What ages are they?" Gibbs asked, hoping that the longer he could keep him talking, the longer he'd stay conscious. He sat down beside Jack with his back against the stable wall.

"Eoin is nine…..and Colm is six. They're good boys. You should see 'em," Jack said, his breathing still laboured. "Eoin loves football and hurling, wants to play for Galway someday. Colm is soccer mad. Loves Manchester United…..I promised I'd take him to Old Trafford one day….."

"You will."

"Love your faith, Gibbs, but I'm not sure you understand our predicament," Jack said with a weak grin. Gibbs could feel the injured detective trembling beside him.

"Your guys must have heard the shot. We just need to ride it out until they get here," Gibbs said with confidence. "Keep pressure on that wound."

Outwardly, Gibbs tried to appear confident, but deep down he was struggling. He was exhausted. He hadn't fully recovered from the beating he had received and the latest whack on the head hadn't helped much. His body cried out for sleep, but his years of Marine training had taught him that sleep was his enemy. He had to stay awake. He had to keep Kavanagh awake. Gibbs suspected that Jack was going into shock. He wasn't sure if their rescue was coming, let alone if it would come on time.

Inside the farmhouse, Liam and Conor were pacing around the sitting room. Tom, Seanie and Des, the man who accompanied Liam back to the house, all huddled in a group, whispering among themselves. Out of the blue, the telephone in the hallway rang. Liam and Conor exchanged wide-eyed glances. A voice called from upstairs;

"Will one of you get that?" a voice called from upstairs.

"Yes, Mam," Conor replied.

He picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"This is Sergeant Niall Daly, with the Garda Special Response Unit. Who am I speaking to?"

Conor waved frantically in Liam's direction. He covered the mouthpiece of the phone and whispered;

"The fuckin' Guards."

He paused, trying to think and decided to answer the Sergeant. He needed to find out what they knew.

"Conor Dunne," he replied.

"Mr. Dunne, we have been trying to reach one of our detectives, Jack Kavanagh, for the last hour. We know he called to your home along with an American agent. I'd like to speak to him," the sergeant asked politely.

"He's not here."

"You see Conor, can I call you Conor? You see, we know he's there because we're watching the house. We also heard a shot and we think you're holding those men against their will. You need to consider the options here, Conor. This can end peacefully and no one needs to get hurt. I think it would be best if you sent your mother and the young American boy out the front door and told them to walk up the lane. They don't need to be involved in this," the sergeant suggested.

"Why? Why would I do that? I do that and you guys will come in shooting," Conor replied.

"No, we don't want to do that, Conor. You'll get a chance to come out with your hands up and surrender peacefully. You're in control here, Conor. This will end however you want it to end. The ball is in your court. I'm just here to help you decide," the sergeant told him.

"I need to think," Conor said, before slamming down the phone. He turned to the others who had been listening to the conversation.

"Fuck! Fuck!" he screamed, swiping a vase off the hall stand and smashing it. He ran to the window in the sitting room and scanned the landscape. He couldn't see any sign of the police outside.

His brother approached him.

"Are they coming?" Liam asked.

"They're already here," he said, straining to see. "Tom, go upstairs and look. See if you can see any activity from there. Seanie, make sure we have ammo, then lock all the doors."

"You're not gonna shoot your way out, are ye Conor?" Liam asked.

"Might have to," Conor replied. "If they search the farm, they'll find a cache of weapons, serious fire power, enough to put us away for a long time. Between that and shooting a Garda, I don't think we'll see blue sky ever again. So, you do what you gotta do, but I've got the bike outside and I'm gonna make a run for it through the fields."

"But we have hostages. We can negotiate a way out. They'll always deal if it means getting hostages out alive," Liam told him.

"What hostages, Liam? Chances are the cop is dead already. I guess there's always Mam or your kid," Conor growled angrily.

"We have the Yank," Liam reminded him. "They'll want to get him back alive."

He watched as Conor stormed around the house, opening tin boxes, rooting around at the back of cupboards, even lifting a floorboard, each time removing a stack of Euro notes. He was getting ready to run.

"Yeah. Great. Whatever? It's your funeral, Bro. I have places to be," Conor snarled. "I need to make a few calls."

They were so distracted thinking about a way out of their predicament that they had forgotten about Parker, still locked in his room upstairs. Parker had witnessed the shooting through the bedroom window and saw Gibbs and Kavanagh being locked in the stable. He knew he had to try to help them. With the door locked, the only means of escape was the first floor window that faced the open yard at the rear of the house. He opened the window and leaned out to see if it was an option. He was thankful to see that if he got to the edge of the window sill he might be able to drop down onto the adjoining garage roof.

He climbed out and sat on the sill and shifted his way over to the right hand edge of the sill. He twisted onto his knees, using the downpipe for support. He lowered himself down until he hung from the sill, leaving himself a short drop onto the lower roof. He landed awkwardly and almost slid off but managed to stop himself in time. He took a deep breath to steady his fraught nerves and continued on, jumping from there to the ground. He hid behind some dustbins, checking that he hadn't been heard. When he was happy that no one had heard the noise and no one was outside, he followed the line of sheds and stables until he reached the one in which he knew Gibbs was being held.

He turned towards the house once more to check that no one was watching and then slid the bolt open on the lower stable door and opened it just enough to get himself inside.

Gibbs heard the noise from the bolt being opened and tried to get to his feet, but he was stiff and sore and even though he planned to try and jump whoever entered, he was too slow. He saw the shadowed figure dart inside and then pull the door behind him.

"Gibbs?" a voice whispered. He quickly realised who it was.

"Parker?"

"Are you all right?" he asked, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"I am now. How did you get out?" Gibbs enquired.

"I'll tell you later. Right now we have to go," Parker told him with urgency. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but Kavanagh's been shot. We'll have to help him," Gibbs said, turning towards the semi-conscious man. "What's going on out there? Where are they?"

"They're in the house. They got a call. I heard a lot of angry voices, yelling, I think the police are nearby," Parker told him.

"You did good, Parker. Let's get outta here," Gibbs said, leaning down and taking Kavanagh by the arm and draping it over his shoulder.

Parker did likewise with the other arm. Kavanagh exhaled a torturous moan as they lifted him from the ground.

"Come on, my friend," Gibbs said in encouragement. "Time to get you home to your boys."

They half-carried, half-dragged the injured man to the door of the stable. Gibbs opened the door a crack and checked the yard. Once satisfied that the coast was clear, the pair helped Kavanagh out and Parker shut the door behind them. They moved as fast as they could to the back of the stable block, which would put them out of the line of sight of the house.

Gibbs looked around, trying to see an escape route. He stood, looking into open field in front of him. To his right, past the back of the stable block, was a narrow ditch, the far side of which stood a small overgrown orchard. To his left stood the huge hay shed, which contained some farm machinery, giant round bales of hay and their car.

If he could get to the car, maybe they had a chance. But Dunne's henchmen had the keys. He could try hot-wire it but it would be risky. Then there was the small problem of the tractor in the way. He'd have to move that too. Noisy. They'd never manage it without being heard. So they were left with little choice. They would have to go cross country. He looked at Kavanagh and then at Parker and wondered just how far they could get.

To be Continued...

**A/N**- you'll be relieved to know that there'll be probably only 2 more chapters in this story. The end is in sight!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N - sorry for the delay in posting this chapter.

Chapter 8

Dusk was starting to descend over the County Mayo countryside. The weather was clouding in and rain wasn't far off. DiNozzo and Detective Donovan had returned to their perch overlooking the farmhouse. Donovan was again staring through his binoculars while waiting for instructions from the negotiating SRU sergeant. DiNozzo was feeling more than a little useless at this point. Donovan had given him a ballistics vest and a waterproof jacket that he normally kept in the trunk of his car, for which Tony was grateful, but he had no weapon and his feet were wet from the moist vegetation on the hillside.

All in all, it was an uncomfortable experience for Tony. He was usually so pro-active while working a case, but felt completely out of the loop here. He put up without too much groaning for once, because he knew what was at stake here. Gibbs, Parker and the Irish Guard needed help. He would do his best not to get in the Gardai's way. They seemed to know what they were doing.

As he shuffled one foot to the other, Donovan suddenly livened up.

"What's that?" he said, straining to see through the lenses. He altered his position slightly. "There's movement in the yard. It looks like the kid."

"What? Let me see," Tony asked. Donovan handed him the field glasses. Tony peered through. "That's Parker. What's he doing?"

"Ah, shit! Is he headed to the stable? " Donovan asked. "If they catch him, God knows what they'll do."

"Looks like it," Tony said. "You'd better give your guys a heads up."

Donovan was immediately on the radio. As he was talking to the sergeant on the other end, DiNozzo interrupted him.

"He's trying to get them out. Look," he said, handing the field glasses back to Donovan.

"There's three of them. Thank God! I thought one might …..," he said, not finishing the sentence. They watched with baited breath until the three figures disappeared behind the stable block and out of view.

Donovan returned to the radio.

"The hostages are clear," he advised his superior.

Then he turned to DiNozzo.

"They're preparing to take the farmhouse. We can circle around, if you like, try and link up with your agent," Donovan suggested.

"Sure," DiNozzo said. "That'd be good."

"Come on. I'll get one of the others to keep watch from here," Donovan said as they started back down the hill towards the car.

Inside the house, Conor Dunne had filled a backpack with some money, a number of false passports and ammunition.

"Sorry, Liam. This is your fight. I can't go down over this," he said, bidding his brother goodbye.

"God speed, little brother," Liam said, understanding his reasons. He gave his brother a brief hug and then Conor hurried out the back door.

He put the backpack on his back, zipped up his jacket, sticking his handgun into the rear of his jeans. He swung his leg over the motorcycle and kick-started it.

At the same time, Gibbs had been considering making a run for the car. He had decided against it and it was then that he was alerted by the sound of the motorcycle's engine kicking into life. Parker heard it too and noticed his panic.

"We gotta move!" Gibbs ordered, his eyes darting around as he tried to decide what to do. "This way."

The trio moved as quickly as they could towards the orchard, which would offer them cover. The sound of the engine became clearer and Gibbs knew it was coming closer. He realised that they were going to be caught in the open.

"Get down," Gibbs ordered, as the motorcycle bounced into the field behind them.

Despite their efforts to evade him, they were seen by the rider. Conor smiled to himself and reached behind his back for his gun. He changed direction and rode towards them. Dunne started to take pot shots at them. Gibbs pushed Parker down into the wet grass and laid his body over his. He was grateful for the uneven surface, ensuring that Dunne struggled with his aim. Gibbs had no choice but to keep his head down and hope for the best.

Suddenly a resounding shot rang out from somewhere south of them. He heard a brief grunt before the motorcycle engine revved up before dying quickly. He raised his head slightly to try to see what had happened. Dunne was lying dead a few feet away from him, his motorcycle on its side some distance away.

He looked around to see where the shot had come from and saw four men running through the field, in full tactical gear, automatic weapons in hand. One ran towards Dunne to check that he was no longer a threat. Another came towards Gibbs, who had since rolled off Parker and was lying on his back, trying to catch his breath. Kavanagh was lying face down on the grass, unmoving.

"Anyone injured?" the SRU officer asked.

"Kavanagh is. He's one of yours," Gibbs said, reaching over to the downed man. "He's been shot."

The officer knelt by Jack and took his pulse. He rolled him onto his side, placing him in the recovery position before radioing for an ambulance.

"Are you okay, son?" he then asked Parker, who was getting to his feet.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Is he dead?" he asked, referring to Dunne.

"I think so," the officer replied.

Parker breathed a sigh of relief. Gibbs was sitting inelegantly on the grass, his eyes a little glazed, making no attempt to get up. Parker visually checked him over and that was when he first noticed the wound.

"You're bleeding," he said to Gibbs, suddenly worried.

Gibbs looked confused at his statement. He hadn't been shot, had he? He didn't feel any extra pain, although saying that, his whole body was currently one huge source of discomfort.

"Your leg," Parker pointed out.

Gibbs looked down at his thigh in disbelief. There was an undeniable hole in the back of his upper thigh, leaking blood onto the grass.

"Stay still, Sir," the officer said, realising that Gibbs had also been wounded. "You'll be okay."

He took out some emergency medical supplies from one of his many pockets in his uniform vest. He handed Gibbs a thick dressing and ordered him to keep pressure on it. He secured the dressing with a crepe bandage, then radioed in an update, giving the location of the injured men. His colleagues prepared to storm the house, so he ordered them to stay where they were until it was all over.

Gibbs thanked him and tried to follow his instruction to keep pressure on the wound. However, within seconds he had to sit back and rest on his elbows, suddenly feeling light-headed. Parker noticed him pale and positioned himself behind him, to support his head and shoulders, despite Gibbs' protests.

"This is all my fault," Parker said in shame. "I should have stood up to him. I should have made a run for it at the airport and got help. If I'd been brave enough, none of this would have happened."

"It's okay, Parker."

"No, it's not! I should have….but he said he had a guy watching my mom. And if I did anything stupid, he'd make a call and have her killed. I was scared."

"You did great, Parker," Gibbs assured him, trying to twist himself around to face the emotional boy. The movement sent pain shooting through his leg, causing him to cry out.

"Gibbs!"

"I'm okay," he insisted, grimacing. "Go check on Kavanagh for me. Is he breathing?"

Parker moved back to Kavanagh to check.

"I think so," Parker confirmed.

Gibbs relaxed backwards, his head now resting on the dew-covered foliage. He tried to take deep breaths, to stave off the dizziness. As he lay there, the silence was suddenly broken by the popping of gunfire coming from the farmhouse. The gunfight was brief. He heard orders being shouted, yelling and cursing, then finally came the sirens.

It was over, he hoped. Then from the dimness he heard a familiar voice.

"Boss! Jeez, are you okay, Boss?"

It was Tony. Gibbs opened his eyes. He hadn't realised that he had closed them. A flashlight temporarily blinded him and he raised his hand to shield his eyes.

"DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, Boss. I'm here. The ambulance is on the way," Tony told him, kneeling beside him.

Gibbs attempted to sit up, but Tony put his hand persuasively on his shoulder.

"Stay where you are until the paramedic checks you over," Tony advised. "You okay, Parker?"

Parker nodded and got to his feet. He stood stiffly and folded his arms around his body to shield himself from the cold. Detective Donovan, who had arrived with DiNozzo, took off his jacket and put it around the shaken boy. Tony did likewise, covering Gibbs with his.

The farm quickly became a hive of activity. Police cars and ambulances arrived. Paramedics were directed to the injured men behind the stable block. They assessed the injuries and quickly decided that Kavanagh should be the first to be removed to the nearest hospital. The now unconscious detective was stretchered to a waiting ambulance and whisked away.

Another ambulance crew tended to Gibbs and took him to the second ambulance. As he waited to be loaded inside, Gibbs saw Liam Dunne exiting the house in handcuffs and being placed into a squad car. He saw two of his associates lined against the wall outside, hands cuffed behind their backs also. Near Dunne's Land Rover, which was parked at the front of the house, he saw more medics working frantically on a wounded man. He enquired who it was and Donovan told him it was Seanie O'Driscoll, one of Conor Dunne's employees.

As Gibbs was being loaded onto the ambulance, he called to Tony.

"Don't let him out of your sight."

He was referring to Parker. Tony promised Gibbs he would keep an eye on him, so Gibbs eventually relaxed and allowed the medics to close the ambulance doors and take him to the hospital.

Parker asked DiNozzo to find out what had happened to his grandmother. Tony asked one of the uniformed Gardai and was told that she was still inside, a little shaken, but unhurt. Parker wanted to see her, so the Garda escorted them into the house. His grandmother was sitting on a chair in the living room, a female Garda by her side, consoling her. Her face lit up when she saw Parker.

"Parker! Thank God," she cried. "I didn't know what had happened to you. But you're okay. Thank God," she continued, hugging her grandson tightly.

"I'm fine, Gran. Are you okay?" Parker asked.

"I will be," she replied emotionally. "I'm sorry this happened. I really am. I'm so ashamed."

"It's not your fault, Gran," Parker told her. "You didn't know. And it wasn't all bad. I got to meet you, didn't I?"

Parker hugged her again and the old lady cried openly.

"Parker, we should get going. I need to get to the hospital," Tony said, interrupting the touching scene.

Parker turned and nodded.

"Gran, I have to go with this agent," Parker explained. "But I'll be in touch before I go home."

"Good lad," she said, summoning a weak smile.

Parker kissed her on the cheek before turning to leave. DiNozzo placed a supportive hand on the boy's shoulder as they left the house. He could only imagine what the boy must have been feeling at that moment.

To be continued...

A/N - next chapter will be the last!


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N - apologies again for the wait for this chapter. Time to wrap it up so for your patience, you get the final chapter and epilogue together.**_

Chapter 9

Tony sat patiently in the hospital waiting room. He had already spoken to Vance and McGee, who no doubt passed on the latest news to the rest of the team. Parker was now the phone, talking to his mom, relaying every detail of his ordeal. Tony listened in on the conversation, himself learning more of what Gibbs had been dragged into. Tony slightly resented the fact that Dr. Ryan had allowed Gibbs to give chase to her ex, knowing it would place him in danger. He knew how much Gibbs cared for Dr. Ryan, but he wasn't so sure that the depth of feeling was mutual. He hoped for Gibbs' sake that it was. He hated to think that she was taking advantage of his boss.

Parker's call eventually ended and he resumed his seat opposite Tony. He picked up a magazine and flicked through it aimlessly. He then looked up at Tony.

"My mom is worried about Agent Gibbs. Do you think he'l l be okay?" he asked.

"Of course he will. It takes more than a piece of lead in his leg to keep the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs down. He'll be looking to go home as soon as he wakes up if I know him," Tony assured him.

Parker smiled. He knew what DiNozzo meant. It was hard to keep a man like Gibbs down. They waited and waited and eventually a doctor entered the waiting room. Tony stood and introduced himself and asked how Gibbs was doing.

"He's in recovery. He's conscious but a little groggy. The bullet embedded itself deeply into the muscle and chipped the bone, but luckily missed the femoral artery. We've removed the bullet and cleaned the wound. It will be painful for a while, but he should have no lasting after effects," the doctor promised.

"That's great," Tony said gratefully. "Can we see him?"

"Sure," the doctor said. "We'll move him to a ward and I'll send someone to come and get you in a few minutes."

As promised, ten minutes later a nurse took Parker and DiNozzo to St. James Ward. The room was occupied by four beds, only two of which were occupied. Tony recognized Gibbs' grey hair in the bed closest to the window. He was sitting up, but his eyes were closed. The bruises on his face looked worse in the white light of the hospital. There were a myriad of purples changing to yellow, albeit adding colour to his pale features. As Tony and Parker pulled chairs close to the bed, Gibbs' eyes opened groggily.

"Hey, Boss," Tony said, softly.

"Hey, DiNozzo, where's Parker?" Gibbs asked, sounding a little anxious.

"I'm here, Gibbs," Parker said, standing up and moving into his line of sight.

Gibbs looked at him and mustered a smile.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about," Parker told him. "Mom is real upset that you got hurt."

"Don't worry. I'll call her later," Gibbs said. "How's Kavanagh?"

Tony looked quizzically at him. The name didn't register with him at first. Gibbs noticed his confused expression.

"The officer that was shot," Gibbs reminded him.

"Oh, yeah. I haven't heard," Tony replied. "Do you want me to check?"

"Well, yeah, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied in his usual impatient tone.

Tony left Parker struggling to make small talk with Gibbs while he went to find out about Kavanagh. He was at the nurse's station enquiring about the guard, when a young red-haired woman, approached him.

"Excuse me," she said. "I couldn't help overhearing you asking after my husband."

"Mrs. Kavanagh?"

"Claire," she replied. "You're American. Are you a friend of Agent Gibbs?"

"Yes, he's my boss," Tony explained. "He sent me to see how your husband is."

"He's in surgery. They say he lost a lot of blood but he's stable," Claire told him. "Where is Agent Gibbs?"

"He's recovering from surgery. A bit grouchy, but doing fine," Tony explained.

"Surgery? I'm sorry, I didn't realise that he had been hurt," Claire told him. "How bad?"

"He took a shot to the back of his leg and he's concussed. He'll be laid up for a while but he'll be fine," Tony informed her.

"Do you think I could see him?" she asked, sheepishly.

"Eh, yeah. I don't see why not," Tony replied.

Tony led her back to where he had left Gibbs and Parker.

"I have a visitor for you, Boss," he announced as he entered the room. He held the door open so Claire could enter.

Gibbs sat up and smiled as she approached the bed. To his surprise, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Tony tried to hide his smile at Gibbs' bashful blush.

"You look terrible," Claire told him as she sat down close to him.

"Thanks, kinda how I feel," Gibbs said, surprisingly honest. "Is Jack going to be okay?"

"The doctors have assured me that he will. He's still in surgery," Claire replied, touching his hand affectionately. "Have they told you how long you'll be in here?"

"A couple of days. Should be okay to fly by the end of the week," he told her.

"That's great," she replied. "I bet this young man will be glad to get home to his mother."

Parker nodded and agreed.

They conversed for a while until Claire excused herself so that she could return to the waiting area in case there was news of her husband. Gibbs insisted DiNozzo and Parker go to the hotel and get cleaned up and something to eat. They did and he was glad. He was exhausted and fell into a fitful sleep soon after they left.

It was several hours later when he woke. He asked the nurse on duty to take him to see Kavanagh. She was reluctant to do so, but Gibbs managed to charm her. They struck a compromise and he used a wheelchair with her assistance. They found Jack's room quickly. Claire was still there with him when he entered.

Kavanagh was sitting up and smiling when he arrived. His face was drawn, his complexion grey, but he seemed better. The nurse pushed Gibbs close to the head of the bed.

"Look who it is," Jack said, sounding quite chipper.

"You look good," Gibbs said, shaking his new friend's hand.

"Hell of a thing," Jack said, referring to the whole incident.

"That's one way of putting it," Gibbs replied.

"Claire was just telling me you were shot as well. I don't remember that at all. How's the leg?" Kavanagh asked.

"Not too bad," Gibbs told him. "Will be on crutches for a while, I think."

"Could have been worse," Kavanagh pondered.

"We were lucky," Gibbs remarked.

"Yeah, I know. If it wasn't for that kid…..," Jack started. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Tony took him back to the hotel," Gibbs explained.

Kavanagh had no idea who Tony was, so Gibbs explained how he had been sent by the NCIS director. As they chatted, the door opened and two little boys ran in, followed by a young woman. Claire introduced Gibbs to her sister and Kavanagh proudly introduced his two sons.

"Are you a secret agent?" Eoin asked, when his dad mentioned Gibbs' title.

"Sort of," Gibbs replied with a grin.

"Cool!" Eoin replied. "Can I see your gun?"

"I didn't bring my gun," Gibbs replied.

"You should have," the nine year old said seriously. "Maybe then you and my dad wouldn't have gotten hurt. You could have got the bad guys"

"The kid's got a point," Gibbs said, still smiling.

He spent a little more time with the family before his nurse insisted that he return to his bed. He did and spent the rest of the evening resting. Next morning Tony arrived with Parker. Gibbs was delighted when the doctor announced that he could be discharged that same day.

Tony was given instructions to arrange flights home for them all as soon as possible. They stayed for a couple more days at the hotel in Galway. During that time, Tony took Parker back to visit his grandmother one last time before they had to leave. Gibbs spoke to Dr. Ryan, who was enthusiastically grateful to Gibbs for getting her son back. As usual, Gibbs was reluctant to accept her praise. He spent the rest of his time resting and taking short, painful walks across the road to the promenade. He would sit and look out at the ocean, enjoying the rare freedom it offered.

Gibbs returned to the hospital for a wound check and to say goodbye to Kavanagh the morning before their flight to Washington.

"I still owe you a pint, my friend," Gibbs said, shaking his hand as he balanced awkwardly on his crutches.

"Oh, don't worry. I plan to collect. You'll just have to come back and next time we'll stay away from farmhouses," Kavanagh told him. "Maybe bring that special lady with you?"

Gibbs smiled and wondered if that would ever happen.

"Take care of that family of yours," he said, bidding goodbye to his pal.

"You too!"

When they landed in Dulles, Tony helped a grouchy Gibbs off the plane. He was stiff and sore and his pain meds had worn off. As they exited baggage claim, Dr, . Ryan was waiting for them. She ran excitedly towards her son as soon as she clamped eyes on him. She threw her arms around him and squeezed him so tightly that he had to tell her to stop because she was hurting him.

Abby and Ducky were also there to pick up the two agents. Abby had been unbearable once she heard that Gibbs had been hurt. They had to restrain her from jumping on the next available flight to Ireland. Ducky had spent the last couple of days reassuring her that he was fine. Even hearing from the man himself hadn't allayed her deep-rooted fears. And as soon as she saw him hobbling awkwardly on his crutches, she rushed towards him. Her arms were flung around his neck, almost dragging him down. Tony had to stop him from toppling over.

"Woah, Abby!" Tony said anxiously.

"Sorry, Gibbs. I'm just so glad you're home," she gushed.

"Me too, Abs," Gibbs replied, accepting her affection gratefully.

She looked down pitifully at his injured leg.

"Oh, does it hurt?" she asked.

"I've had worse, Abs," he said, meaning it as he shifted his stance slightly.

"Come on then," Ducky interjected. "Jethro must be exhausted after his journey."

"Thanks, Duck," Gibbs said, his crutches clicking on the tiled floor surface as he walked on.

He glanced over at Dr. Ryan, who was still fussing over Parker. He felt an ache in his heart. He wasn't sure if it was longing or disappointment. He realised that he wasn't quite over the abruptness of the demise of their relationship. He continued on his way with DiNozzo, Abby and Ducky by his side.

As they exited towards the parking lot, Gibbs heard Dr. Ryan call from behind him.

"Gibbs! Wait up!"

He considered not stopping. He knew he still loved her, but wasn't prepared to open himself up for another world of hurt if she walked away from him again. But not stopping would be an over-reaction, not to mention rude.

He stopped and turned around and saw her scurrying towards him, Parker following at a lesser pace.

"Gibbs," she said, as she caught up to him. "How can I ever thank you?" she asked before kissing him passionately on the lips.

Gibbs accepted the kiss, but didn't kiss her back. Needless to say, Abby and Ducky stood by, watching with surprise and delight at the apparently touching scene. Tony, of course, enjoyed it in a more voyeuristic manner, gossip central as far as he was concerned.

But Dr. Ryan sensed Gibbs' non-participation in the embrace and only then, in a moment of clarity, did she understand exactly how much her departure had hurt him. She had been so busy protecting her son and running from her ex-husband that he became a casualty of that war. She pushed herself away from him so she could look into his eyes and try to see what he was feeling. He wanted to avoid her gaze but was drawn to her. The bruises on her face had faded slightly, he noticed.

She could see nothing in his eyes. They were cold. She started to well up as the guilt and emotion she had tried to conceal bubbled forth. She leaned towards him once more, but this time whispered in his ear.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "We really should talk."

He stood up, straightened his back and took a deep, cleansing breath. He didn't smile. He wasn't sure if her suggestion was a good idea. Once bitten and twice shy, he thought.

"I'm heading home," Gibbs told her. "Doctor's orders," he said coldly.

"Gibbs?" she uttered, surprised at his distance.

He looked at her with steel eyes. He smiled at Parker, giving him an approving nod of the head. He liked the boy and he loved his mother, but he wasn't prepared to play her games anymore. If there was to be any chance of a reunion, it would be on his terms. Right now, his thigh was throbbing and his head ached. He just wanted to go home.

"You know where to find me," he said, as he turned away and caught up with his team.

_A/N - I should give a big shout out and thank you to my wonderful Beta, you know who you are!_


	10. Epilogue

_A/N - this is for those of you out there that like the Gibbs/Ryan dynamic. Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing this story. Taking a little break from FF for a short while after this. _

Epilogue

It was two days since Gibbs got home from Ireland. He was frustrated at not having been cleared for work, despite his protests to Vance and Ducky that he could still attend crime scenes while using his crutches. He even suggested desk work, but Vance insisted that he rest up for at least a week before returning to work.

His team were as dependable as ever, at least one of them calling by each day and evening. They brought him groceries, take-out food, stories of latest cases and kept him company. He was glad of their company, even if he acted quite the opposite.

He tried to make the most of this enforced free time, working in his basement on his latest challenge. It was an intricate piece of carpentry; some might call it sculpture. He was creating his own memorial to the victims of the Navy Yard bombing. Like he did with all his work, he poured his heart and soul into every stroke of the sanding block, every score of the chisel. It was also therapeutic for him.

He was lost in his own, dust-filled world when he heard footsteps upstairs and someone calling his name. As usual, his front door was unlocked for all and sundry to enter.

"Down here!"

He followed the sound of the footsteps to the basement door and watched curiously to see who his visitor was. The silhouette told him female, but the light had not yet permitted a clear view. As she stepped into the dimness and down the stairs, he realised who it was. His heart skipped a beat. He put down the chisel and limped back towards his work bench.

"Hi, Gibbs," she said as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Doc," Gibbs replied almost formally.

"You look better," she said, approaching him.

He didn't respond, just turned towards the bench, keeping his weight on his uninjured left leg, and took an old coffee mug and a relatively clean glass jar from the shelf. He turned them upside down to make sure there was nothing in them, blew into each in a vain attempt at cleaning the dust from them, then reached for his bottle of bourbon and poured two drinks. He turned and offered her the glass jar, which she accepted.

"That doesn't look like a boat," she said, referring to his latest wood craft.

"It's not," he replied, deliberately not elaborating.

Ryan took a large mouthful of the bourbon before coming to the point. She knew Gibbs. She knew it was what he expected.

"It wasn't easy for me either, you know?" she started, as if trying to justify her actions. "My feelings for you were real, Gibbs. I need you to know that. Walking away and leaving what we had broke my heart."

"Didn't seem that way," Gibbs grumbled.

"I know how it must have looked but I was in self-preservation mode. I had always been so careful, especially since Parker was born, and then with one call Dearing jeopardized everything. I felt so vulnerable. I thought disappearing would keep us safe. In hindsight, I guess I was wrong," she said with regret.

"I could have helped you if you had let me" Gibbs told her.

"I know you would. What can I say? I wasn't thinking straight."

Gibbs knocked back his drink and poured another. He pulled out a high stool and awkwardly sat.

"How's the leg?" Ryan asked, remembering his injury.

"Not bad," he replied.

"I really am sorry, Gibbs," she said, moving closer to him. "Even after the way I treated you, you were there for me. I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you. You really are a good man, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. You deserve someone who appreciates that," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

Gibbs reached his hand out and, as she backed away after kissing him, he took hold of hers. She stopped dead at his touch. She felt a tingle of excitement at his proximity. He pulled her to him. She found herself standing between his legs and longing to kiss him. He smelled of sweat and sawdust, raw and masculine. This time he looked deeply into her eyes.

"I don't want just someone," he told her, allowing his other hand to brush her backside. "I've had plenty of someones, Ryan, but only one was you. Those brain-gamer ways of yours, the way you answer a question with another and make me so mad, it keeps me on my toes. I had no idea how much I needed you until you were gone. Hell, this is not easy for…" he said, before he was cut short by her actions.

She leaned in slightly until her lips met his. She kissed him passionately and this time he responded in kind. He pulled her into him and their spark reignited. She ran her hands through his silver hair and down his neck and back, feeling his taut muscles beneath his dusty sweatshirt. She explored his body with her hands and tingled as his hands roamed hers. In her eagerness, she pushed against him slightly, causing his body to slide from the stool. Automatically, he saved himself from falling off with his right leg. The suddenness of the movement sent a jolt of pain through Gibbs' injured thigh.

He broke away from the kiss immediately and tried to catch his breath. Ryan sensed that she had hurt him and apologised profusely.

"Oh my God!" she gushed. "I forgot. I'm so sorry. Are you alright?"

"It's okay. I'm fine. Just a bit tender," he said, through gritted teeth.

"How about we take this somewhere a little more comfortable?" she suggested.

"Hmm, now what would you be suggesting?" Gibbs asked playfully.

"Come on, Soldier," she said, helping him to his feet.

Gibbs hobbled up the stairs and into the house.

"Is this far enough?" Gibbs asked, looking to the living room, not wanting to presume too much.

"Depends," she replied. "What did you have in mind?"

Gibbs gave her a flashing smile and gestured towards the next set of stairs to the bedroom area.

"What about those doctor's orders?" she asked seriously.

Gibbs smiled another flirtatious smile.

"I wasn't planning on standing up the whole time," he said, taking her hand and leading the way.

"Just one thing," she said, her mood changing to serious once more.

Gibbs paused, not really sure what to expect.

"I really want this, Gibbs," she said when he turned back to her. "Us, I mean. I want us."

"So do I," he replied, his eyes twinkling with delight.

He kissed her hand and they meandered up the stairs.

"So do I."

**THE END**


End file.
